


on directing

by automaticdoor



Category: Community
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, Bisexual Female Character, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 02:32:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/automaticdoor/pseuds/automaticdoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annie wants her. Desperately.</p>
            </blockquote>





	on directing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [halfeatenmoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfeatenmoon/gifts).



When Annie almost kissed Britta at the Valentine's Day dance, she knew she was in trouble.

"Annie!" Britta hissed. She pulled back like Annie was on fire or something. Since when was Britta so traumatized at the thought of lesbian behavior? What was that whole interlude with Paige really about, anyway?

Annie made one of her best high-pitched offended noises and stormed away with her arms crossed, but not before sneaking a peek back at Britta, who was still standing there, lips parted as though she was waiting on a real kiss. _Well, she's not getting it from me,_ Annie thought angrily, drowning out the voices that asked, well, why would she get a real kiss from you in the first place?

*~*

Then, of course, there was Annie's meltdown over her missing purple pens and the ensuing uncomfortable stripdown. Annie kept trying to tear her eyes off Britta's shapely body, her lean torso, her curvy breasts, her gorgeous calves... oh god, was she getting turned on? Yes. Fuck. This was not happening. Sure, she had fantasies about the cheerleaders and their short skirts in high school, but that was high school, not college, and she was a grown-up, and what if Britta noticed the flush creeping down her neck toward her chest... and what if she knew what that meant...

God, she wanted to lick every inch of Britta's body.

Every inch.

*~*

And then, when Annie least expected it, she had Britta in her bedroom, powerless, handcuffed to the goddamn radiator.

"You lying junkie," she spat. "I know your tricks. You hugged me and lied to me. I would have done the same thing for a hit of Adderall a few years ago, but no more. I know what you're up to."

She didn't mention how wet she got when Britta had pressed her breasts up against hers in the tight hug, or when she whispered in her ear, or even when she was wanting to call that stupid Blade, because Annie could pretend she wanted her. And that rush of power she got when she snapped the cold handcuff shut to the radiator... well. She couldn't even put that into words. The throbbing in her veins was testament to how that made her feel.

Britta rattled the cuff loudly. "Let me out of here, Edison."

"Or what," she growled.

"Or... fuck, I don't know, but this is bullshit and you know it. Let me out."

"You asked us to keep you away from Blade. This was the only choice. You took all the other options away."

"You're full of shit."

"Maybe I'd let you go... if you promised to do something for me."

Britta's eyes glinted dangerously. "And what might that be, Edison?"

It was now or never. "Kiss me."

"...What?"

"You heard me."

And then, all of a sudden, Britta's free arm was pulling her down and she was tumbling over on top of Britta on the floor and their mouths met and it was hungry and wet and _heaven_. Someone was moaning and Annie thought it might be her but she didn't care. All she cared about was the idea that Britta was kissing her back, finally.

Annie shifted, bringing one shaky hand up to caress Britta's face. Britta leaned into Annie's touch. Annie's fingers drifted lower, tracing the shapes of her collarbone and finally, finally, circling her nipples. Of course she wasn't wearing a bra. How Britta. Fuck, her nipples were hard. Britta moaned and arched her back at Annie's touch, her breath quickening. Annie circled a touch faster.

"Annie. You're such a fucking tease," Britta whined.

"What do you want?" Annie whispered.

"I want you to take off your cardigan and top so I can do the same thing to you." 

Annie shed her clothing as if it were attacking her. She shoved the lacy edges of her bra aside so Britta could lick and suck at her nipples until Annie tasted blood in her mouth from biting her lip so hard and trying not to come from the pure touch of Britta's tongue.

"Okay. If you swear to god not to leave this bedroom, I will unlock your handcuffs."

"Wouldn't... dream... of going anywhere now..." Britta panted.

Annie produced the key from her back pocket and swiftly unlocked the handcuffs. She tugged Britta over to her bed. They collapsed together, Annie on top of the petite blonde, grinding her hips against Britta. Britta moaned loudly and Annie silenced her with a kiss.

"Troy and Abed are right outside. Shhhh."

"They're watching Blade Runner. Whatever."

"Britta."

"Fiiiiiine."

And then Annie was unbuttoning Britta's jeans as Britta was sliding one hand up Annie's skirt and god, it felt amazing. Britta's fingers were stroking Annie's inner thigh and Annie's legs were trembling and Annie managed to sneak one hand down Britta's jeans and into her underwear and oh my god, she was soaking wet. Annie bit back a whimper.

"Find something you like?"

"Find something _you_ like?"

"Maybe."

Britta started circling Annie's clit with her thumb as she slid a finger into her slick wetness. It was all Annie could do not to come right then and there. She gasped. "How... how are you so fucking good at this?"

"Practice makes perfect," Britta smirked.

Annie had a million questions, but they all died on her lips as Britta kept going faster and faster and she was spiraling higher and higher and oh god, she was coming and lights were flashing behind her eyes and she screamed into the pillow. Britta carefully slid her fingers out of Annie and looked expectantly at her.

"My turn?"

"Let me... just a second... god..."

"Kidding, Annie."

"I wasn't."

And then Annie, somewhat less expertly than Britta, returned the favor, until Britta was screaming to the point that Annie had to muffle her with a pillow too. 

The room was gently spinning as they lay next to each other, side by side on Annie's bed, trying to catch their breath.

Britta turned to Annie. "Now can I have my phone back?"

"Dream on, junkie."

**Author's Note:**

> Story title from Tegan and Sara's "On Directing." Beta-read and approved by G. <3


End file.
